


White to Red: Innocence lost

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Drama, Genderswap, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: It's a new world. Dark. Merciless. The shadows of the human mind walk freely. a war was waged. countless lives were lost.  It is now ACO (after coming out) 255. This is the story of a girl named Samantha, and the length she will go to get revenge.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

PROLOGUE

 

In this fairytale, there is no happily ever after. It is a new, darker world, chaos reigned when the shadows of human nightmare, came into the light. Creatures of myth and legend living amongst humans for centuries, making their presence in the world known. A war was fought, billions of lives were snuffed out and much knowledge was lost forever. The war raged for one hundred and twenty-three years, overtly, and over three hundred years in secret. 

 

The first government of this new world was established in ACO (After Coming Out) 175. They were harsh to the peoples and made laws that were as unreasonable as they were impossible to truly follow. Criminals were all put to death upon their capture, and in this world everyone was a criminal in some way or another.

 

In ACO 231 the first government fell. Their Oracles, those with telekinetic powers, had been tricked into sending false prophecies about the resistance’s plans and locations. The second government, the Archestry, made up of rebel leaders, removed much of the old laws and put in their own. But not before they killed or exiled the war heroes, those who had fought for the cause the hardest and lost the most, to the Outlands. The Archestry understood the power that these hunters in particular held among the common people and refused to be overthrown by them or anyone else. 

 

The first two laws were simple, everyone was to wear a collar from their birth until their death. The collars had the ability to stretch but just enough for breathing and natural growth. These collars held all of your information; how old you were, where you went, your criminal record and even a complete genealogy, beginning at ACO 233. 

 

The second law was that everyone had to wear a color specific to what they were. White was entirely human. Grey’s lesser inhumans, such as vampire fledglings, and rougarou. Black meant that they were middle inhumans, like Djinn and Gargoyles. Red’s were greater inhumans, such as Vampire elders and Banshee. Mixed colors meant that they were stronger than the weaker color but weaker than the second color. Blues were the Sentinalz, which were any species, even robots, that acted as a kind of police force. The Oracles wore purple, and finally, the Overseers, the leaders of the Archestry, wore yellow.


	2. Book 1: White.

Once upon a time there was a young girl named Samantha. Everyone who knew her called her lil’hood, as she always wore the little white hooded cloak her mother had made for her. She lived with her family, in a gray brick cottage, on the edge of the Eldo forest. For her seventh birthday, she got new socks and shoes, some cookies from her aunt and the image of her family being murdered ingrained in her mind forever. 

 

The masked man, with their blood still on his hands, picked her up and ran from the scene. He took her to his home where he kept her as his prisoner for several years. When she was eleven she managed to escape him, through a window, the man’s son had forgotten to lock. What she couldn’t escape however was the four years of memories she couldn’t acknowledge ever happened for fear of shattering what remained of her already fragile mind.

 

Samantha ran as fast as she could, climbed up and over the gate, and into the forest as the Blue Sentinalz chased her. She bobbed and weaved around this tree and through that bush. She tripped and fell to the ground. A robotic Sentinalz, an orb with arms and a tail, flew over head, and didn’t even notice as she crawled into the roots of a giant dead tree. Sentinalz of many species ran past her, she held her hand over her own mouth and attempted to slow her breathing.

 

A hairy wolf like Rougarou ran by her hiding spot then stopped. He held his nose high into the air and sniffed deeply. His head cocked down at the roots, pale blue eyes gleaming. He started to move towards her. The Rougarou’s movements were interrupted when another robotic Sentinal slammed into his head and knocked him into unconsciousness. Other Sentinalz came over and picked up the unconscious Rougarou, carrying him off deeper into the woods. 

 

Samantha stayed in her hiding spot until the next morning. Sleep evaded her as the adrenalin continued to course through her veins. Slowly she climbed out, poking her head around the trunk of the tree. She could still see the Sentinalz footprints. She followed them slowly, ducking behind a tree or into a bush whenever she heard a noise. Eventually she came upon a sign, “Right to Eldo woods. Left to Hallofalls.” She took off at full speed, all her previous tiredness gone as she ran down the right road.

 

Just before the path suddenly veered to the right, there was a run down grey brick house. The house had been condemned. Samantha didn’t care, she pried the boards off of one of the back windows and crawled inside. A huge cloud of dust exploded under her when she landed inside the house. It was dark and musty, dark red-brown stains still covered the walls and wood floors, pictures laid broken haphazardly scattered about. She picked one up, her short, unevenly cut, dirty blond hair falling into her face, it was of her family, her mother trying to keep control of a three year old her while her father had his hand on her older brother, Dean’s shoulder. She opened the back of the frame gently and pulled the slightly discolored picture out.

 

She looked at all the other frames in the house. All the pictures inside were either covered in blood or torn so badly that they brought moisture to her eyes. She ran up the creaky stairs, two at a time, and down the hallway to the room she’d shared with her brother. She picked up a small satchel and threw it on the bed along with some of her brother’s clothes, they should fit her well enough. Samantha went into the bathroom and filled the sink with water. She took a slightly dusty cloth out of the hall closet and cleaned herself up before putting on her brother’s favorite white pair of pants and shirt. It smelled mildewy but still faintly like her brother. She basked in his scent for a long moment before remembering that she was being chased.

 

She walked down the narrow hallway to her mother and father’s room. Memories of sleeping in their bed when she had nightmares and even more memories of playing games with her father and cooking with her mother ran around her troubled mind, bringing still more tears to her eyes. She couldn’t hold it back anymore, they ran down her cheeks leaving wet streaks before dripping off her chin, she sat on the bed, a cloud of dust enveloped her, and she waited for her tears to stop clouding her vision. It took several minutes, but once she set her mind back on her task at hand, she moved quickly and without letting her emotions overwhelm her again. 

 

Samantha went to the small chest on her mother’s dresser, in it she found all of the jewelry her mother had. Nothing much considering her mother’s love of beautiful things, just a few earrings and a couple bracelets. It took her a moment to find what she was looking for, a silver necklace her grandmother had given to her mother on her deathbed. The necklace was to be Samantha’s when she was a woman.

 

When she put the chain around her neck and let go of the intricate three inch long crucifix it rested between her newly forming bosom. She smiled remembering her namesake, her strong, stubborn, powerful, grandmother. She opened the dusty wardrobe and found her mother’s white cloak. It had beautiful silver detailing and was sewn with magical Fae material. It grew and shrank with its wearer and kept the wearer at a constant temperature regardless of weather or their physical exertion.

 

Next, Samantha went to her father’s nightstand. In it she found his favorite dagger, it had a silver and iron blade, with small groves in it for blood to move down and away from the users hand and was made by Greoul, the most coveted blade maker in the world. She pulled the picture out again and studied the happy faces of her family. She knew, even at her young age what her family’s business was, they were hunters and she would carry on their legacy, and avenge their deaths.


	3. Chapter 2

She walked northwest, along a small stream, toward the city called Jalfreu. There was an underground temple there, one where she could learn to fight the nightmares, of her mind and the world. She kept a careful look out for the Sentinalz. It was after sundown and if they caught her she would be imprisoned again, only this time she wouldn’t be able to escape. The brick streets were dirty and empty except for the occasional sound of Sentialz chasing someone unlucky enough to be caught. She snuck through the bushes, to a place her parents used to visit. She had to have an in, someone older who could get her into the temple.

 

At the door to a liquor store, which was on the very edge of town, she knocked three times in quick succession, paused, and knocked twice more. A small opening appeared in the door; an unnaturally blue eye peered out at her. “Where did you get that necklace?” A raspy voice that sent chills down her spine, asked.

 

“It was my grandmother’s,” Samantha replied trying her best to hide her discomfort, “She sings with the goddess and her disciples in the forest of the mist.”

 

No one ever spoke of the goddess anymore, except the hunters and even then it was in secret. She was outlawed now, which is ironic considering that the Archestry used her as a uniting force among the resistance. Hunting, the greatest show of your devotion to her, too was outlawed in this “better” world. 

 

“What of your blood?” His voice asked, still suspicious.

 

“It runs from nothing, and through everyone,” she responded, it was a test and she knew how important it was she respond perfectly, one word off and she would be locked out forever. Her only chance destroyed.

 

“What of the earth?”

 

“It crumbles under my will.”

 

“What of the water?”

 

“It destroys all obstacles in my way.”

 

“What of the fire?” He asked.

 

“It burns me and all others unworthy of the Goddess.”

 

“What of the wind?”

 

“It always blows in my face, bringing the scent of my prey with it.”

 

The door opened, and she was ushered inside quickly, the door was dead bolted behind her. Inside it smelled of mildew and tobacco smoke, the lights were on the fritz and blinked on and off in a seemingly random pattern. He led her down an aisle past all kind of liquors and cheap snacks, to a door in the back of the store. The man limped slightly, his arms pulled closely to his body. He opened the sturdy door with a small brass key. There was an enclosed courtyard, a few trees, ten tables and it was three fourths full of people, some in white, some in black, some in grey and even one in red.

 

Samantha walked in slowly, this many people in such a small space, made her more nervous than the blue eyed man had. She couldn’t see any escape routes except the now locked door she’d just entered from. The woman wearing a red t-shirt dress smiled wickedly at her from her seat in a dark corner. The woman’s bright red eyes and mouth full of fangs gleamed in the light. ‘Must be a vampire elder’ She thought, ‘No way a fledgling could end up in red.’

 

The woman licked her lips and gestured to a man wearing a white shirt with a grey stripe down the middle, white pants, and white shoes, with sunken eyes and thin arms. He came to her and sat on her lap, she sunk her teeth deep into his neck while her eyes still made contact with Samantha’s. He was a blood doll, no more than food to her. It made Samantha sick, but she didn’t break eye contact as she went to an empty table. She had been through way too much to let a feeding vampire unnerve her. She pulled out the dagger; a sharpening stone and some oil then began to sharpen her father’s favorite dagger. The sound the metal made as it slid across the stone had a strangely calming affect on her. She smiled, good memories beating the bad ones back into her subconscious.

 

She thought about her mother’s smile whenever she drew something “fridge worthy”. The way her father’s brow would crease with deep concentration. And she thought of her best friend, her brother, her protector, Dean. Samantha didn’t see what happened to him, he had run upstairs to get his present for her and hadn’t come down before she was kidnapped. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice, when a man in black walked up to her.

 

“What is your name child?” he inquired.

 

She felt his eyes on her and was suspicious of his motives, but answered him anyways, she knew he wouldn’t/couldn’t hurt her here, among all the hunters. “Samantha,” she responded, not looking up and still working on the dagger.

 

“Why have you come here, Samantha?”

 

“To become a hunter,” she stated boldly looking up and into his dark purple eyes.

 

“Why would you want to do that? You're still so young, so much of your life still to live.”

 

She laughed and it caught the man off guard, “live?” She questioned, slamming the stone on the table, “I died with my family.” Her knuckles were white; she was holding the dagger so tight.

 

He put his hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner, but she brushed him off. She didn’t need him to comfort her; she needed someone to train her and take her to the temple. She cocked her head at him, challenging him to say something else. He didn’t even step back. Just smiled at down at her.

 

“I am Bobby Singer and I will train you, young Samantha, if you wish,” He spoke quietly but with stern conviction.

 

“I... I am most grateful,” she stuttered in mild shock, a smile plastered itself all over her face. Samantha put her supplies back in her bag and stood. Even standing she just barely went past Bobby’s elbow. Her journey could finally start, she had a mentor and soon she would have the necessary skills to take her revenge. With her pack over her shoulder, and the dagger within easy reach, she followed Bobby back though the store and out into the night.


End file.
